Surprise
by J9
Summary: Catherine sees something that surprises her (Grissom-Catherine fluff)


****

Title: Surprises

****

Author: Jeanine (jeanine@iol.ie)

****

Rating: PG

****

Pairing: Grissom/Catherine

****

Feedback: Makes my day

****

Disclaimer: If it was in the show, it's not mine.

****

Archive: At my site Checkmate , Fanfiction.net; anywhere else, please ask.

****

Summary: 

****

Notes: Specially for Mags for Christmas, because she asked for G/C fic where they dance… and that was that. glares at Mags Complete fluff - you have been warned. 

***

There are times, most times in fact, when Catherine feels like she's seen it all, done it all, that there's nothing left in the world to surprise her.

Then there are times like this, when she realises that she's wrong.

It had started off as an ordinary morning; ordinary enough when you consider that she's just come off the shift from hell, after wrapping up the case from hell. She went home, as was normal; Grissom following her, which was slightly less so. On most mornings like this, they go to his place, where he serves breakfast while she fixes herself a screwdriver, but this morning she had to get back to Lindsey, ergo Grissom resigned himself to negotiating her cupboards. 

This morning was different to other mornings in that there were three, not two, partaking of his culinary skills, and Catherine won't drink so early when Lindsey is present, so after breakfast, she did the next best thing, excusing herself to go upstairs. Once there, she scraped off her makeup, splashed cold water on her face, and felt almost human when she made her way down the stairs.

That's where she is now, at the foot of her stairs, staring at something that surprises her.

Grissom, who she definitely remembers muttering something about starting on the washing up, is standing in the general vicinity of her kitchen sink, but he is not washing dishes. Instead, he has turned on her CD player, which is playing something by the Beatles, and Lindsey is dancing with her, her feet on top of his, one hand in his, the other holding on to his arm, her long blonde hair swaying in time to the music as Grissom moves them around effortlessly. Lindsey's face is turned up to his, and she is laughing, and the smile that Grissom is bestowing upon the child is something that Catherine rarely sees, wishes she could see more often. 

She's never seen Grissom dance before, didn't even know that he could, let alone that he could dance so well, and she wishes more than anything else that she had a camera so that she could capture the moment forever. However, since that would mean turning away from the sight before her, she stays where she is, fixing the memory on her mind instead.

She wishes that the moment would never end, but end it must, and it does, with the tooting of a horn from outside; Lindsey's ride to school, and the girl gasps, evidently not having realised the time. Her bag rests beside the kitchen table and she grabs it, running back to Grissom before she leaves, giving him a quick kiss on the cheek, which leaves him looking stunned after her. The expression on his face is enough to make Catherine smile, even as she leans down to kiss Lindsey goodbye herself, telling her to be good, Lindsey responding with a roll of her eyes. 

Then the door slams behind her, and Catherine and Grissom are left alone in the house, Grissom still staring after Lindsey, Catherine staring at him. 

Eventually, his eyes return to her, and he gives her a faintly bemused grin. "That was unexpected." 

She knows he's talking about the kiss, but she's not when she says, "You can say that again." When he looks down, that same grin still twitching around the corners of his mouth, she continues with, "I never knew you could dance." 

He shrugs, meets her gaze. "There's a lot you don't know about me." 

His tone is light, but it draws a harsh laugh from her; never a truer word has he spoken. She side-steps the issue though, even as she steps towards him, choosing instead to ask, "Who taught you to dance?" 

"My mother." The answer is simple, but just as surprising as this whole surprising morning, and Catherine, with another step towards him, raises one eyebrow. 

"Your mother? Who's been deaf since she was eight?" 

Grissom, when he replies, could be speaking to Lindsey. "You don't need to hear to dance Catherine," he tells her. "Not the music anyway… you just need to be able to feel the beat… simple as that." 

This close to him, Catherine realises that he's right, that the beat of the music - a different song now, but still the Beatles, _Oh Darling,_ one of her favourites - is moving through them, or maybe, for some unknown reason, that's just the beating of her heart. 

"Really?" she asks, and he nods slowly, reaching out to take her hand in his. 

"You should know that," he tells her. "You're the one who used to dance professionally." From anyone else, she would bristle at a remark like that, but not with him, because unlike when Eddie, for example, would mention her past, when Grissom does it, it never sounds sordid. Besides, Eddie rarely spoke to her in that tone of voice, certainly not near the end, when they couldn't be in the same room as one another without sniping at one another. Neither did Eddie ever step close to her like Grissom does now, slipping one arm around her waist with complete authority, as if it belongs there, and maybe, she thinks, in the most surprising thought of all, it does. 

It's a long time since she's danced, even longer since she's had a partner who knew what he was doing, but Grissom definitely fits that description, moving her around her kitchen floor with aplomb, in perfect time to the music, never taking his eyes off hers, never even blinking. His expression doesn't change in fact, and she'd almost think that he wasn't affected by their proximity, their movement, at all, were it not for the fact that she can feel his heart beating fast where her palm is moving across his back, and it's not the beat of the music to which it's keeping time. Rather, it's the beating of her own heart, which is going just as fast as his. 

She knows this song, knows when it is going to end, is fairly sure she knows what's going to happen when it does. Nor is she wrong, as he dips her, not down low, for which she's grateful, but just enough so that she's leaning back in his arms. His mouth is just inches from hers, and while she's been content to follow his lead thus far, now Catherine takes matters into her own hands, inclining her head up so that their lips meet, and they are kissing. 

She's pleased to report that Grissom's an even better kisser than he is a dancer, and when he pulls away from her, eyes dancing, lips smiling, she knows her expression is the match of his. 

"It's a while since I've done this," he says, and while he sounds apologetic, his expression is anything but. "I might be a little rusty." 

Smiling, she slides her hands up his arms, threads her fingers through the short hair at the nape of his neck, glancing at the CD player, which has just launched into _The Long and Winding Road._ "Well then, we'd better practice some more," she tells him, not even bothering to keep the amusement out of her voice. "I'd hate for you to feel uncomfortable." 

Grissom doesn't speak, just smiles and pulls her upright and into his arms, and together, they keep on dancing. 


End file.
